


the boy who had to put up with some fairly ridiculous shenanigans in his orbit

by rosestone



Series: the wrong boy [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Humor, Wrong Boy-Who-Lived (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 02:12:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16904121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosestone/pseuds/rosestone
Summary: Harry Potter has survived a war, a Dark Lord, and every single horrible adventure his twin brother's dragged him into over the past few years.  Not to mention the fallout from the adventures his brotherdidn'tdrag him into.But, despite his extremely high tolerance for potentially deadly situations and Gryffindor ridiculousness, there are some things even he refuses to put up with.





	the boy who had to put up with some fairly ridiculous shenanigans in his orbit

Harry glared across the Great Hall.  
  
There, at the Gryffindor table, sat his brother James and his friends.  He didn't have any particular reason to glare at James right now - while their relationship had been rocky since they'd met four years ago, they were getting along at the moment - but it didn't hurt to do it, just on general principles.  Their respective Housemates seemed to be much more comfortable when they were at odds.  
  
But James wasn't the target of his glare today.  No, that was someone else entirely.  James's best friend: Ron Weasley.  
  
He and Ron had started off on an even worse footing than he and James had; his brother had _wanted_ for them to get along, even if he'd been fairly bad at it, but Ron had despised him on pure principle after his Sorting.  However, they'd more or less mended their relationship by this point.  He'd even managed to accept Ron's more irritating personality traits, like his inability to control his temper.  
  
Except for one.  
  
He'd spent years doing his best to ignore it.  Years of sitting across from him - at the Weasleys' kitchen table, in the Great Hall, at his parents' house.  He'd told himself it'd improve eventually.  
  
It hadn't.  
  
He couldn't take it any more.  
  
Ron was almost fifteen.  Surely, at some point in his life, somebody must've told him to _close his bloody mouth when he was eating_.  
  
And he wasn't even the only person it had to be irritating!  What about his siblings?  His Housemates?  He knew for a fact it bothered the other Slytherins; there was a veritable rush to sit on the other side of the table when Ron was facing their side of the Hall.  
  
None of _them_ had ever bothered to mention it, of course.  As much entertainment as Malfoy got out of testing Ron's hair-trigger temper, he usually stuck to topics he was sure would bother him - family, money, his relative lack of fame, that sort of thing.  Harry was pretty sure Malfoy thought Ron simply had no idea about, or care for, table etiquette.  
  
It couldn't possibly be true.  Molly Weasley was a terror on the topic of manners, and it wasn't like Ron couldn't see other people chewing with their mouths closed.  
  
And yet, if he knew, why the hell hadn't he stopped?  
  
He had to ask.  He couldn't keep on going like this.  Even if it meant missing out on the appalled expression on Malfoy's face when he didn't manage to get a seat facing away from the Gryffindor table.  
  
  
"Weasley."  
  
Ron narrowed his eyes at him.  "Potter."  
  
"What, not hanging around with my brother?  I thought you didn't have anything better -"  
  
"They've gone 'round the corner."  
  
They immediately relaxed from their tense poses.  Ron leaned against the wall, pulling a bag out of his pocket, while Harry cast a few spells to discourage people from using this particular corridor.  
  
"Bertie Botts?"  
  
"No thanks."  
  
"Sure.  So, why're you here?"  
  
Harry cleared his throat.  "I have to ask you something.  It's... a little delicate."  
  
"Go ahead, mate.  You know I'm not bothered about that kind of thing."  
  
"That's actually part of the problem.  You, ah... you are aware it's considered polite to chew with your mouth closed?"  
  
"Not sure what you're talking about."  He popped a jelly bean into his mouth.  
  
"Oh, come on.  Mouth gaping at every meal?  I'm a little surprised, actually, it seems like it'd be _harder_ to eat that way..."  He trailed off, staring at Ron's mouth.  His _closed_ mouth.  
  
He swallowed.  "No, really, you've got me."  
  
"Are you _serious?_ "  
  
He sighed deeply.  "C'mon, Harry.  I know you play chess."  
  
"I... what?  Is this one of those obscure wizarding culture things nobody ever bothers to explain until I've gotten it wrong?  Is there some rule that an aspiring chess champion can't close his lips at a meal?  What is _going on?_ "  
  
"Eh, fine.  But you can't tell anyone, promise?"  
  
"Frankly, Ron, I'd promise much worse things than that if it meant you'd actually explain what the hell you're on about."  
  
"Look.  I've been friends with James since... well, pretty much forever.  I didn't really understand what it meant when I was little, but when we were... nine, maybe?  He pulled me aside and told me everyone thought You-Know-Who was going to come back someday, and it was going to be his job to fight him when it happened, and he was pretty sure anyone who was his friend was going to be in danger, so did I want out?  And I wanted to just yell no, because that felt like abandoning him, but... he really meant it, y'know?  So I went home and thought, and played a bit of chess, and decided it was worth it.  'Cause it wasn't like I wouldn't end up fighting anyway, y'know?  He killed my uncles, Fabian and Gideon, and heaps of other people, and I couldn't just sit by if that was happening.  But if I was going to do something dangerous like that, I figured I should make sure people underestimated me.  So that way they wouldn't see me coming."  
  
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose.  "You chew with your mouth open so Death Eaters won't think you're dangerous."  
  
"You don't think the Slytherins think I'm stupid?"  
  
"Well..."  He paused.  "Okay, yes, a lot of them do.  Purely because of your table manners.  But that's not going to convince all of them. And, in the meantime, a lot of them have ended up thinking you're an utter boor.  That doesn't bother you at all?"  
  
"Are you kidding me?  Haven't you seen the faces they pull?  It's hilarious!"  
  
"... You're not wrong."  
  
"And it's not like that's the only thing I'm doing," he went on.  "I could do better in class, if I tried - honestly, I think it's more work keeping my marks low.  Easier now Hermione's helping, though you should've seen her expression when she realised I was doing it on purpose!  She said she'd rather not do it as well when I suggested it, though - don't think she could stand Malfoy and Nott thinking they was smarter than her."  
  
"It would've looked pretty strange if her grades dropped suddenly, you have to admit.  And getting beaten by a Muggleborn is awfully good for them.  Character-building, you know."  
  
He snorted.  "That's one way of putting it."  
  
They stood silently for a moment.  Ron popped another bean in his mouth, grimaced, and swallowed.  
  
"Well," Harry said finally, "thank you for telling me.  Quite frankly, I think this is one of the most ridiculous things you've been involved in at Hogwarts - a list that includes every stupid adventure James's dragged you into, I should point out - but I won't tell anyone what you're up to."  
  
"Thanks, mate."  He tucked the bag back into his pocket.  "Anything else you needed, or..."  
  
"Uh - yes, actually.  Look, I understand why you've got to keep it up here at school, but... well, all your family must know what's going on, right?  So would you be able to drop it when I'm visiting over the summers?  I'm sure I'm not the only one who's bothered."  
  
"Sure.  Hermione understands, but it makes her kind of twitchy.  I'd better go before someone notices I've wandered off - see you around?"  
  
"Yeah, sure.  Gryffindork."  
  
Ron smirked as he walked off.  "Better a Gryffindork than having snakes for brains like you!"  
  
"Whatever."  
  
He leaned back against the wall.  Better not to let anyone think they'd been having a friendly conversation - not after he and James had put all that effort into having realistic-looking duels that didn't actually injure anyone last year.  
  
Honestly.  What a _ridiculous_ idea.  
  
He couldn't scoff too much at the base concept of convincing other people to underestimate you; he'd been doing it himself, after all, by playing up his rivalry with James and his resentment towards his parents.  When Voldemort came back, as Dumbledore was certain he would, none of his housemates would expect him to throw in with his brother's side.  He could spy on the Death Eaters, or feel out the younger set for recruitment away from their parents, or even just provide an unexpected curse in the back at the best possible moment.  
  
But this?  Really?  The next thing he knew, Ron was probably going to be trying to convince everyone that he was James's paid sycophant and could be bribed away from him, or something equally ludicrous.  
  
This was what happened when you let Gryffindors make cunning plans.

**Author's Note:**

> I enjoy Wrong Boy Who Lived fics as a genre (generally speaking), but some of the more common conventions just drive me up the wall. This fic brought to you by a WBWL fic I read recently in which Ron ate _eggs_ with his _hands_ (type of eggs unspecified, but it was breakfast so I think it's safe to assume they were either fried or scrambled. No!!!)
> 
> Honestly, if I never read another fic in which Ron is an arse to everyone in the general vicinity while simultaneously talking with his mouth full at every possible opportunity/chewing with his mouth open as wide as it is possible for a human to manage/committing some other incredibly obvious mealtime faux pas that there's no way in hell Molly Weasley would let him get away with... it'll be far, far too soon.


End file.
